


Unblemished

by nikkivfx



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean Winchester's Freckles, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Freckles, Love, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Hatred, Self-Insert, Smut, Unprotected Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:15:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28218321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nikkivfx/pseuds/nikkivfx
Summary: Dean hates his freckles. You show him how much you love them.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Original Female Character(s), Dean Winchester/Reader, Dean Winchester/You
Comments: 2
Kudos: 48





	Unblemished

On the off day where you guys did not have a hunt, you spent them mostly in The Bunker. Following the path to the kitchen, you caught a glimpse of Dean in the bathroom. The door was ever-so-slightly ajar, and you could see him leaning over the counter, his face looming dangerously close to the mirror. His shirt was off, and he had one hand resting on his opposite shoulder.

Context clues told you that he just finished taking a shower. Residual smoke was dancing in the air, and the mirror was fogged. Except for where his swiped handprint laid, exposing his reflection to himself. You watched as he slowly tilted his head from side to side, looking at something on his face.

Not wanting to creep around any longer, you pushed the door, uncovering yourself for him to see. He did not move from his position, acknowledging you only by making eye contact through the mirror.

“What are you looking at?” You asked.

He let out a breath. “Freckles. Hate ‘em.”

Hearing him say something like that shocked you. For a moment you were not sure you masked the surprise on your face well enough. You had heard Dean talk about himself negatively, something you always countered, but never anything about his physical appearance.

No one could deny how beautiful Dean was. No one even tried. Leave it to him to be the only one.

He was damn perfect, and Lord help you if you didn’t recognize it every day.

There was not a moment since you met that you did not love him. It was hard not to. You denied it for so long, your inner voice telling you all things horrible. Things similar to, ‘he will never be interested. Move along.’ But he was. By some miracle.

“Well, I have some freckles. Do you hate them, too?”

“No! God, no, they look better on you. Everything does.”

Not trying to drop the topic, you ignored his compliment, feeling your cheeks burn, “How is it any different than yours, then?”

“I… There’s so many of them, I hate the way they make my skin look,” he explained, and you moved closer, taking his waist in your hands. Automatically, he reached out and touched your back. You smiled inwardly. Even subconsciously, he could not keep his hands off of you, “'M supposed to be sexy, not cute.” He told you, making you giggle, and him smile in return. It was wiped off of his face when you moved your face into to the crook of his neck.

He stopped talking momentarily, and you felt his breath go shaky against your skin. You smirked, then pursed your lips, connecting them gently to the soft pulse beating within his throat. His skin was hot under your lips. Whether it was natural or from the shower, you did not know. You hummed your appreciation for it against his throat, and he felt it buzz into his skin.

Broadening your actions, you started to leave open-mouthed kisses on his neck, nipping where you felt appropriate. You gave extra attention to the spots you knew he liked to have your lips the most. The wet saliva left on his throat caught the surrounding cool air. Dean lightly shivered in your hands.

Not that you could see, but he let his eyes flutter closed and forced himself to relish in every touch you were willing to give him.

Being busy with hunting all the time meant you two did not get to touch each other like this for stretched periods. He pulled you away from your thoughts of taking him straight to bed when you heard his whiskey voice say,

“Don’t know. Just never liked them.”

You removed yourself from his collarbone and trailed your gaze across the bridge on his nose. On their own accord, your fingers reached out and grazed his soft, freshly shaven cheek.

You could not ignore the heavy _thump_ of your heart when he leaned his face into your touch.

“I love them.” You nearly whispered.

He let out a humorless breath. “You’re the only one.”

You dropped your hands down to his shoulders where you could cherish more of his freckled skin. All the while, his eyes were locked onto your face, simply observing. He was sweet like that, unintentionally so.

Mindlessly tracing random patterns on his skin with your fingers, you connected his spots to make his own unique constellations out of them. Your hands went down until you reached his hands. Feeling his calloused skin against your own, you entwined your fingers together and pulled him towards the door.

“Where we goin’?” He posed, but you could hear the playfulness infecting his tone. He followed after you anyway.

All you could muster was a quick glance over your shoulder, raising your eyebrows suggestively at him, too intent on getting him into bed. He snickered and squeezed your hand in response, eagerness swelling in his chest.

Once you entered your bedroom, the sexual haze that fell over the room was palpable. You were sure Dean felt it too. You let it possess and work through you, blinding you, moving your bodies closer together, until all you felt was _him_. Against you, kissing you, holding you like he could never get close enough.

With his big hands, he used your ass as a way to anchor your pelvis against his. Simultaneously, he squeezed just enough, making you gasp, and letting him slip his tongue into your mouth. It was like you could taste his smirk in the kiss.

_Sly bastard._

Remembering what you had taken him in here for, you pulled away. A thin string of saliva linked your mouths briefly. Dean tightened his hold on you, and you caught a glimpse of annoyance in his expression. Nice to know after all this time, you could still get him worked up from just a kiss.

He seemed to think he could get away with nudging himself into the crook of your neck, kissing you there like he knew you liked. He knew everything you liked at this point, and he never failed to put his knowledge to good use. You let him get his way for a few beats, but when he started nibbling on your earlobe, you used his hair to pull him off you. Too much of that would make you lose control and give into him.

He literally whined at you.

“Come on, you big baby. Get on the bed,” you giggled, “I have a plan.”

“Oo, I like the sound of that.”

Nodding your head in the direction of the bed, he finally obeyed you. He was not going without pulling you down on top of him, though.

You took advantage of it immediately, straddling him. He wasted no time seizing you by the hips, pulling you down into his lap. Rolling your hips seductively and joining your lips together again, he groaned into your mouth and gripped your harder.

You kept it up, making sure he was well pent up before you showed him how beautiful you thought he was. Biting his lower lip, running your tongues together, occasionally pulling away to lightly suck on his jaw, all while grinding against him. A reminder of what was to come.

When you released his lips, nearly gasping, the sight underneath you could only be described as divine.

His dirty blond hair was sticking straight up, dark against the white pillowcase, still slightly damp. He kept his eyes shut while he rutted up into you, the long lashes sitting thick and perfect on his cheeks. His brows were furrowed, something he did when he was trying to control himself for you. His lips were painted a darker pink than usual from exertion. And his light brown freckles were adorning his tan skin like they were put there by the angels.

“You are so beautiful.” You had to tell him. He needed to know.

He slowly opened his eyes to look at you. They were hooded, glazed over with primal _need._

“Baby, please.” He rasped.

“I’ll give you anything you want,” you said to him as you leaned down to kiss and suck on his exposed skin, gravitating to where his freckles were the most dense, “You can have whatever you want.”

You wanted to kiss every freckle until he felt your love sewn onto each of his spots. Reminding him silently that you would never get enough of him, would never think that he was not anything but ethereal. You two were never the type to tell each other verbally how you felt. Emotions were not your thing. That was why you two danced around each other for so long before you got together.

You started kissing down the length of his body, shifting yourself down as you went, kissing places where his freckles were peppered. Shoulders. Chest. You stopped at one nipple, darting your tongue out friskily, all to feel him jolt. You felt it harden under your tongue. Sternum. Abdomen. Your tongue ran a line down the center of his belly, over his navel, too. You did not stop until you were at the waistband of his pants.

You did not realize how many marks he had. There had to be hundreds scattered across his body. They were the building blocks of the person underneath you. And you could not love any part of him any less if you tried.

Gradually popping the button of his jeans, you felt his breath hitch in anticipation. You kissed his hard dick through the front of his jeans and moved to pull his zipper with your teeth. You saw that his head was propped up on the pillow, and he was looking down at you. A low rumble broke in his chest at the captivating sight of you, between his legs, mouth around his zipper. Looking at you with that damn lustful look in his eyes.

Your hands found their way into his waistband, using them to shimmy them over his ass and down his legs. He helped you by lifting his hips up off the bed. Getting them off, you threw them over your shoulder, immediately forgetting their existence when you had such a view to look at.

His cock was straining against his briefs, the leaking tip of it creating a wet spot in the material. You did not bite back your groan at the sight, not caring if you stroked his ego. He smirked at you.

You could not hold back, and reached out to grasp him, rubbing him firmly. Instinctively, he arched up into your hand, wanting more. You would not make him wait.

Fingers hooked over the seam of his underwear, and you pulled them down his legs, flinging them carelessly like you had the denim. His dick sprung up straight, ending up propped against his stomach. It was a mouthwatering picture. You would never get enough of him.

You were too distracted by his naked glory to notice the freckles that rested on the sharp bones of his hips, too. If you had seen them, you would have treated them no different than the others. With complete adoration.

Immediately, you reached to wrap your hand around him, pumping the thick length of him twice. It was not enough, you wanted to give him more. So, you leaned down and took him into your mouth.

“Fuck.” He gasped and paired with it was an almost painful entanglement of his fingers in your hair.

You worked the head of him first, making sure it was slick with saliva. You swirled your tongue around it, spending an extra second on the back of it with each concentric circle you made.

When your mouth had accumulated more saliva and he was slick enough to push deeper into your mouth, you pulled off and connected your mouth to his shaft, moving to slicken that instead. You lifted your lashes upward and made eye contact with him. He was so turned on from watching you suck his cock and the evidence was written across his face plainly.

You wrapped your searing hot lips back onto his dick and took it down your throat as deep as you could. The wet sound of him hitting the back of your throat echoed throughout the room. Dean moaned.

After experimenting for a few bobs, you found a pace that suited you.

Two large hands were still folded in your hair, using it as leverage to subtly pump his hips upward, thrusting himself deeper down your throat.

“You’re so fucking good at that, sweetheart. Love your mouth.”

You fed off the encouragement, and he knew you did. You continued bobbing your head up and down, tightening the ring of your mouth every time you came back up. Spit made its way outside the sides of your mouth and dribbled down your chin. Seeing the glint of it only made Dean feel more hot and bothered than he already was.

The whole time, he rewarded you with pleasurable noises that spawned in his throat. You ate it up, each needy whine spurring you on further.

Lost in the feeling of bliss from pleasuring him, you had forgotten you were still fully clothed. Something he was looking to fix the minute you were forced to take a break from deepthroating his cock.

He pulled you off of him by using your hair. You detached from him, tongue sitting outside of your mouth. Not caring about your spit-covered face, he sat upright and pulled you into a kiss.

“So good,” he started as he pulled away from your lips, “I was gonna cum if you didn’t stop. Have to be inside you, now.” He growled as he made quick work of your clothes. He reached for your shirt first, pulling it over your head. He hummed with satisfaction when he noted that you did not have a bra on.

His arms grabbed you and flipped you into the laying position he was just in. His stance over you was almost predatory.

Without warning, he slipped his hand into your sweats, groaning aloud when his fingers found you wet and bare. No panties.

“Were you planning to do something like this today?”

You looked up at him innocently.

“I have no idea what you mean.”

You broke your façade quickly, smiling up at him sinfully.

“You’ll be the death of me.”

You felt one long finger press against your entrance, your built-up slick easing his passage into you. He did not stop until he was knuckle deep. He did not move it, just kept it still, enveloped in your clenching heat. When you rocked your hips in an attempt to create some friction, he withdrew his finger, making you whine.

You watched as he inspected the wetness on his finger, and your breath stuttered when he wrapped his lips around it, sucking the taste of you off. The display he was putting on was erotic, and he knew you liked it.

He sucked the finger out of his mouth with an audible pop and reached down to rip your sweats off your legs, placing himself between them. Now naked and ready beneath him, his eyes dragged down your form, cock twitching.

“You want me?” He asked, knowing the answer.

You nodded desperately, too breathless to speak. He had that effect on you.

“Tell me.” He said.

“Please,” you managed, “Need you.”

He captured your lips on his and pressed himself into you. You widened your legs for him, loving the feeling of him splitting you open. He did not stop his thrust until he was completely buried inside of you. Giving you a second you adjust, his mouth found its way to your nipples. You grabbed his shoulders while he sucked on your tits.

The lack of being fucked, only being penetrated, was frustrating you. You tried to roll your hips on him, create your own form of pleasure, but it did not do much. He was refusing to move. Even when he needed you, he was the king of teasing.

“Come on Dean, fuck me!” You huffed at him. He chuckled around one of your nipples at your impatience.

“Not gonna last long.” He told you, and promptly drew his hips back just to slam back into you.

It made you see stars. In the good way. Positively dizzy with pleasure.

Your little experiment driven by love had quickly morphed into a rough fucking session. He set a brutal pace, fucking into you hard.

Involuntarily, all sorts of sounds were leaving your mouth. You could not help it when he was continuously hitting just the right spot inside you, in tandem with swirling a finger around your clit.

“You take my dick so well, baby. Always so fucking tight. And warm,” his speech was in time with his thrusts, “So perfect.”

His words swirled around in your head. You loved it when he talked to you like this, and he knew it. Because right around the time he said anything, was not far from when you would start cumming around his cock.

And here it came, right on time.

Your pussy clenched almost painfully, tightening around him like a vice. You felt heat rush down your body, resonating between your legs, making you even slicker for him. You let out moans of pleasure, seeing white from your orgasm.

Feeling you wrapped so tightly around him made him start to cum, and you felt it shoot deep within you. It felt hot and swelled your belly. He stayed inside you, absolutely spent, and not wanting to knock his sensitive dick around your still contracting pussy.

When he finally pulled out, he took a look at your pussy. It was something he did almost every time he fucked you, it was expected at this point. It did not mean you did not still tease him about it.

He liked to see your pussy pink and dripping with his cum, looking well used by him. It gave him a feeling of pride to know that he did it to you, no one else. He was the one who kept you looking freshly fucked. It was enough to make him hard again, and on a handful of occasions, that was exactly what happened.

You would never tell him, but it turned you on too.

He collapsed beside you, assuming the position of big spoon. You felt his warm, naked body pressed against the length of your own. He did not have to say thank you. You could feel his aura practically buzzing with gratefulness, reaching out and brushing against your soul.

“Need another shower now.” He murmured into your hair happily.

A second sinful smile spread across your lips.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed! Thank you so much for reading.


End file.
